Fine Art
by This Person Writes
Summary: Sharon/Andrea. AU. What happens when Sharon's trying to steal precious artwork and a certain blonde thwarts her plan?
1. Chapter 1

The soft strings of the band reverberated throughout the Great Hall of the Metropolitan Museum of New York. Everyone was dressed to the nines, here to celebrate the nonprofit organizations that promote the arts. The beautiful marble columns and arches, as well as the ever-present champagne flutes and food, added to the glamour of the night.

It was just the place for Sharon Raydor to revel in. Clad in a purple, floor length Monique Lhuiller gown, she absorbed the swankiness of the event and the art that adorned the halls at the Met. She took another sip of her champagne as she studied the man who stood several feet away from her.

His name was Elliot Daniels. He was a billionaire business magnate, well-known for the many businesses he built as well as the lucrative and questionable ones he supported. It was also no secret that he loved the arts and had an impressive collection of priceless paintings. Rumor had it that Elliot recently purchased an Edward Hopper painting at Christie's for about 4 million dollars.

Sharon was itching for new art. There was a spot in her cabin up in the mountains that was begging for a piece of fine art.

She also knew what kind of man Elliot was. A ladies man. Needed a constant feeding of the ego. Tonight would be an easy job for her. He was an almost too easy mark; there wasn't much chance he'd fight back. It was a shame. Sharon might've actually considered him a potential lover, if only to scratch an itch.

She turned to place her now empty flute onto the server's waiting plate. When she turned back to fix her gaze on Daniels, she found herself in direct eye contact with the silver haired fox. Steel gray eyes pierced into Sharon's emerald ones. She looked away, as if she was embarrassed, and slowly made her way to the bar. If she did it right, she knew he would be right on her tail.

"A Macallan. Neat, please," she ordered.

The suave, Armani-dressed silver haired fox walked up to her right. "I'll what she's having, thanks."

She fiddled with her diamond bracelet, not yet making eye contact with him.

"A pretty lady all alone at the Met," Elliot moved a fraction closer to Sharon, "that just isn't right. The name's Elliot Daniels."

If she could, she'd roll her eyes at the man's attempt at a line. She took a sip of her Macallan, letting the burn of the malt scotch whisky coat her throat.

"Well now, Mr. Daniels it seems," she looked up at him, "I am no longer alone anymore."

She extended her hand to him. "Meredith. Meredith Winslow."

He smiled at her, accepting her handshake. After a shared Macallan and light conversation, Elliot asked her to dance. They were only one-third into the song before being interrupted by a blonde woman in a simple black dress.

Sharon was highly skilled in her ability to school her expressions, so she was able to study the woman before them without raising suspicion from Elliot. She had to admit it to herself. For a stagehand, the blonde was quite beautiful. She was well-built, with slender legs that looked like they could go on forever.

"I'm so sorry, sir," the blonde looked over at her, "and ma'am. The awards portion is about to begin. You're needed backstage."

Elliot let go of Sharon's hand and smiled at the blonde. "Of course. If you'll excuse me, Meredith. Duty calls."

The two of them made their way backstage, but not before the blonde turned back to take a second glance at Sharon. To a layman observer, it would seem like she was wondering if she knew Sharon or not. To Sharon, however, it felt as though she was being studied. Gauged, even. She wondered if she wasn't the only one itching for a piece of artwork tonight.

In the meantime, if there was one thing Sharon truly hated about events like this, it was all the pomp and circumstance with the awards. She hated speeches. It was always so dry, mundane, and lacking originality. There was no spontaneity or passion in people's words.

As the evening wound down, Elliot came back to Sharon and invited her back to his hotel room at The Mark. A night cap, he offered. She knew he wanted more.

But that was okay - she wanted more as well. Much, much more.


	2. Chapter 2

Sharon was lounging on the leather couch in Elliot's suite at The Mark. She had a soft spot for the hotel, loving the feel of the Italian sheets and the black and white marble furnishings in the bath. A truly decadent life of luxury. She'd never get tired of it.

"An art expert and a Yale graduate?" He poured her another drink. "Tell me, Meredith, what piqued your interest in the arts?"

"I was a young girl," she sipped her drink, drawing from her own experiences. "I visited the Louvre with my father. He was a businessman and fortunate to travel the world. He was enamored with the Louvre and promised to bring me there."

She got up fro her seat and made her way to Elliot. "There's nothing like that wide-eyed wonder at all the beauty in the paintings and sculptures," she lightly caressed Elliot's shoulder as she walked around him, "and being so close to such fine art that you could almost touch it? It's a dream."

He was entranced by her low voice, the words almost sounding like a whisper. She was just about ready to execute a crucial part of her plan when his phone rang. Frustration crossed his features as he answered his phone.

"Go," he barked. "Yes, yes, whatever. Send it up."

"I'm so sorry. It appears one of the several paintings I purchased is on its way up. Any other time I'd be happy, but," he moved to Sharon, grazing his finger up her bare arm and shoulder, "I had much better plans tonight."

She gave him a devilish smile and then looked to the door after hearing light knocks.

Two figures walked into the room, carrying the painting. Sharon's gaze immediately went to the blonde woman helping carry the piece. It was the same stagehand from the gala, the beautiful blonde woman. Something was up now and she was sure of it.

As soon as the priceless piece of art reached the table, chaos ensued with the blink of an eye. The blonde pulled out a taser and shocked the person who helped her carry the painting. She then shocked Elliot directly in the heart. Sharon watched as both men convulsed on the floor while the blonde stalked over to her.

"You were not part of my plan, Meredith." She slowly walked to Sharon, pointing her taser at her. "Expected, but definitely unwanted."

Sharon held her hands up, getting up from her spot on the couch. "Plan? Is this a sting? What are you, FBI? CIA?"

The blonde smirked at her. "I'm not law enforcement, if that's what you're wondering. What about you, Meredith? If that's even your name."

"I work alone."

"That makes both of us." The blonde launched herself at Sharon.

"If you're a hitwoman," both women struggled for control of the taser, "you're real sloppy!"

The blonde managed to manuever her fist and aimed for Sharon's nose. A resounding crunch filled the room. "Again, not part of my plan!"

Sharon hitched up the skirt of her dress and delivered a swift kick to the blonde's groin. Using her distraction she rolled over and moved on top of the blonde. Even in her angry state she still appreciated her companion's features. Such beautiful blue eyes, she thought. Too bad I'm going to add shades of black to it. Her first connected to the blonde's face, delivering blow after blow. When she was satisfied with the blonde's lack of a fight, she grabbed the taser.

Limping over to the painting, she looked over at Elliot. Still unconscious. He wasn't important now, just another mark that helped her reach what she really wanted. She began deconstructing the frame, ultimately rolling the painting into the travel case Elliot prepared for it.

She thought she was in the clear until suddenly, she was in a chokehold. Gasping for air, the blonde spoke precariously close to Sharon's ear.

"You're a liability, do you know that?" She threw Sharon to the ground. "I do not leave liabilities. It ruins the flow of my job."

"I just want the art. Let me have this and we can be on our separate ways."

"What makes you think I don't want it too?" The blonde asked.

Sharon rubbed her neck. "Because you would have killed me by now if you really wanted it. No, there's more you want. Name it."

The blonde laughed. "I have it, right here." She gestured to the still-unconscious Elliot. "He's been a bad, bad boy."

Sharon slowly pushed herself off the floor, wary of her aching and throbbing body. She would have to rest for weeks before even considering another heist. "So have him. I'll take the painting. I'll be out of your way."

"You can't just disappear like that!"

"Oh, but my dear," she began to unzip her dress, revealing tight black leggings and a black tank top. She stuffed it into the nearest duffel bag she found. The blonde was mesmerized by her movements. She had to admit it to herself. This woman was sexy as hell.

"My mark get me to where I want to be and like a flip of a switch, my job is done. I disappear. With my goods in tow."

This never happened to her. Andrea never encountered someone like this brunette woman. She clearly wasn't a hitwoman; nor was she anything close to a fighter. She gauged her to be a cunning person, skillful in acting and getting what she wants. A grifter, perhaps.

A damn well sexy grifter, she thought. And if their jobs ran in similar circles then maybe she might not make a difference in her hit for tonight. Andrea just needed to up her numbers this month and leave without a trace. Then again, if they really did run in similar circles she would most likely run into this woman again. It was with that thought she made her decision.

The blonde extended her hand. "Andrea."

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her hand, but then softened her look as they shook hands. "Sharon."

"I don't do this," Andrea moved closer to Sharon.

Sharon lightly touched the redness already forming under Andrea's eyes. "There's something to be said about embracing a little...spontaneity during a job."

Andrea passionately kissed Sharon, damning every objection in her head. After the need for air ended their kiss, Andrea moved to Elliot. He was beginning to come around, moaning and moving slightly. She took hold of his head and swiftly snapped his neck. Done.

"I grab him," she wrapped Elliot in trash bag and then stuffed him into a suitcase, "and you grab the art."

Sharon rolled up the painting and placed it in the travel case. After they made sure they left no trace around the room, they exited down the stairs. Mindful of what each was carrying, they made their way to the loading dock where their respective getaway vehicles waited.

"I've got my van back there. I'm sorry, but I've got somewhere to be." Andrea said.

"No need to be sorry," Sharon reached for the keys that were stashed in her bra. "It was...nice, bumping into you Andrea. I'd say you didn't do that bad of a job."

Andrea dropped the suitcase and planed another firm kiss on Sharon's lips. "I've absolutely no idea who you are. I've never met you. You're nobody, got that?"

Sharon chuckled before moving away. "And you are?"

Andrea watched the sway of her hips as she walked away towards her ride. Who was she kidding? She'd remember a stunner like her even if she was in a crowded room. Perhaps she'd see her at another gala. Or during a more calculated heist at another museum. She'd have to check her dossier for more art aficionados. Something, anything, to catch the beautiful Sharon again.


End file.
